


Homework

by Julandran



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: (more or less), Bonding, Canon Compliant, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julandran/pseuds/Julandran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the calm between the storms, the new CEO of Queen Consolidated and his massively overqualified assistant try to regain their footing. Brunch with his family and bonding over paperwork ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homework

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in January 2014, between 'Blast Radius' (2.10) and 'Blind Spot' (2.11).

Felicity felt out of place at the huge antique table in her jeans and sweater and sneakers. She hadn’t expected to see anyone but Oliver, had expected to just shut themselves in the study and do what needed to be done. It was hard enough getting him to concentrate on paperwork during normal business hours. But this meeting prep couldn’t wait until Monday because the _meeting_ was on Monday, and they still had financial reports to go through. She needed his signature on the proposed budget, and even if she filed it that afternoon, they were cutting it close. Most of the other people involved wouldn’t see it until first thing Monday morning.

The despairing noise Oliver had made last night (or technically very early this morning) at the prospect of spending yet another Saturday among the glass walls of their offices was an echo of her own sentiments. But Felicity hadn’t wanted to mix their QC work with Arrow business by doing their homework in the windowless vigilante lair either. His compromise had been to invite her out to the family mansion.

Unfortunately, the Queens were still in the middle of a late breakfast when she’d arrived. So here she was, drinking insanely good coffee, picking at some toast and fruit salad while doing her best not to let her words get away from her in front of Oliver’s family. As far as they knew, she was the weird IT girl that Oliver and Walter considered a friend, who was now – inexplicably – the assistant to the CEO of their family’s company.

Moira and Thea had withheld comment when Oliver had pushed in her chair, but Felicity had noticed their raised eyebrows and the glance they’d exchanged. She’d gotten used to ignoring such things at the office. The scrutiny felt super-concentrated coming from Oliver’s family in their own dining room. Luckily, she was getting pretty good at deflecting attention from herself. Her favorite tactic? Show interest in the people around you.

“So you’re ten years older, right?” Felicity asked. Oliver gave her a ‘close enough’ tip of his head as he swallowed his bite of omelet.

“Minus a couple months.” He shifted his gaze to his sister with a smile.

Thea returned it ruefully before informing her, “Yeah, I’m the mistake.”

“ _Surprise_ ,” Moira corrected somberly from the credenza as she stirred milk into her second cup of coffee. “You were a surprise.”

“Whatever,” Thea mumbled, but the expression she hid behind her sip of pomegranate juice was pleased.

“Robert and I weren’t trying for a second child,” Moira informed Felicity, “but we were delighted when we found out she was on the way. Oliver, less so.”

“I was nine,” he defended.

“And spoiled rotten, I bet,” Felicity teased.

“Oh, hopelessly,” he confirmed with a nostalgic smirk. After a moment, though, his eyes dropped to his hands where they now gripped the edge of the table and his smile turned wistful. “I threatened to run away and live with Tommy.”

His mother put a hand on his shoulder as she passed. He covered it with his own and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. Felicity noted that it wasn’t just an Oliver thing; the whole Queen family was physically affectionate. It must have been so hard for him being deprived of that during his time on the island. No wonder he was always touching her. He’d been starving for that kind of connection for years, perhaps without even being consciously aware of it, and his body itched to make up for lost time.

“But then Mom pointed out that Tommy was _here_ most of the time,” he continued, shaking her from her contemplation.

“Yes,” Moira said, returning to her chair. “He was such a sweet boy, and after Rebecca… Well, we were happy to have him around. I wasn’t aware that you knew him, Felicity.”

“Oh, um, only a little. From the club.” It was more or less true. They had exchanged contact information after the whole Helena-kidnapping-Tommy incident. And with the secret Arrow lair being conveniently located underneath Verdant, she’s stopped in for an occasional drink. She likes to think that she and Tommy could have been good friends if he hadn’t died in the Undertaking.

“No offense,” Thea interjected, “but you don’t really seem like the clubbing type. I mean, I haven’t seen you there lately.”

Felicity raised an amused eyebrow at the younger woman.

“I’ve been known to have a cocktail or two,” she said, unable to keep the self-deprecating smile off her face. After a moment, she fell back on the usual cover story. “But no, not really my scene. Not a great dancer. I was in the QC IT department when Verdant opened and Oliver asked me to do some freelance work getting the club’s wi-fi set up.”

Their invented history was getting easier and easier to sell. She almost believed it herself at this point.

“So _you’re_ the reason I always have such good signal.” This was clearly a huge mark in Felicity’s favor as far as Thea was concerned. Felicity confirmed her assertion with a small flourish of her hand and a nod that served as a modest bow.

“I’ve actually had some ideas about how to improve it even further now that the 11ac standard’s been ratified and the routers that can really support it well are becoming available, but… well, it’s yours now and I don’t want to step on any toes. Plus, the new job keeps me pretty busy these days.” Not to mention the other job that kept her close to the club at night. She felt Oliver’s gaze on her and turned to find a carefully appreciative expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing.” He knocked back the last of his coffee. “But speaking of our new jobs, we should probably get to work. I don’t want to take up your whole Saturday.”

“Oh. Sure.” Felicity popped one last chunk of honeydew into her mouth and set her fork on the plate. Gesturing to her own nearly empty cup then the carafe on the sideboard, she asked, “Can I…?”

“Of course,” Oliver said. Without any fanfare, he pushed back his chair, scooped up both of their cups, and strode over to refill them. Felicity did her best to ignore Moira and Thea’s surprised looks (and suppress her own) and hoped that they would continue chalking his actions up to the fact that she was a guest in their home. The CEO getting coffee for his assistant was a little weird, even under these circumstances. But for all his faults, Oliver had retained some of his high-society manners, and he was continuing to take her ban on beverage fetching seriously. At this point, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the task itself anymore, but it was kind of entertaining her to maintain her silence and see how long he’d keep it up.

Felicity laid her napkin on the table and stood, gathering her laptop bag. She accepted the fresh cup – conspicuously tan and sweet, just how she liked it – as Oliver passed by. Continuing on, he rounded the table to kiss his mother’s cheek and the top of his sister’s head. It was a little strange witnessing this part of his life. Here in his home, stripped of his business suits and protective leathers, without the need for bravado or menace, Oliver Queen was… a guy. A rich, handsome twenty-something guy beloved by his family. He was relaxed in a way that he didn’t even achieve with her and Diggle, soft and sweet. It was so different from the obnoxious playboy he’d been portrayed as in the media. Less intense than the vigilante. It was nice.

Finishing his circuit, Oliver returned to her side and gestured toward the hallway. Felicity nodded her agreement.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she told the women remaining at the table.

“Thank you for joining us,” Moira said graciously. “Good luck keeping Oliver on task.”

Thea choked back a snort of laughter while Oliver himself closed his eyes and sighed in resignation. He absorbed their teasing with a gentle shake of his head.

“Shall we?” he prompted once more.

“Yeah.” Felicity raised a hand in one last goodbye then followed him in mostly comfortable quiet through the corridors to the study.

It was basically a small library, full of books and framed photographs and sturdy antique wooden furniture. She didn’t know enough about Robert Queen or Walter Steele as people to pick out which details had been added by one or the other, but she could immediately tell that Oliver hadn’t made any major changes to the space yet. He was still trying to live up to their examples rather than making a mark of his own.

Oliver snagged a chair from a sitting area by the window, so Felicity set her bag on the broad desktop and pulled out her tablet. Once again, he helped her get situated before taking his own seat. In the interest of getting their work done, she decided to roll with his chivalry and handed him the folder of printouts she’d brought along. They made fairly decent progress for a while. It wasn’t until they hit the R&D section about a potential new method of transistor compression that he got distracted and dragged the conversation back to an earlier topic that he was closer to understanding.

“So your improvements for Verdant’s wi-fi…” Oliver trailed off, but his implication was clear.

“Would also be improvements to our systems in the Arrowcave, yes,” she confirmed, lowering her voice slightly on the off chance that household staff or the other Queens were nearby. He grimaced.

“It’s not– Don’t call it that.”

Felicity favored him with a dubious look over the top of her glasses, but refrained from poking that particular sore spot any further. The foundry, the secret vigilante lair, the Arrowcave, it didn’t really matter what they called it. It was their base of operations, and something she had poured considerable time and money into improving after the quake in The Glades. As long as they were both part of the mission to save the city, it would be home.

“Then stop procrastinating over the R&D budget proposal,” she chastised playfully, tapping the pile of papers in front of him. Oliver ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and squeezed the back of his neck. A weary sigh escaped his lips.

“Felicity, I trust you to understand this better than I ever could. I’m happy to sign off on it right now if you’re satisfied with it.”

“Uh uh.” She kept her tone fondly stern. The night before had been a long one for both of them, but this was important, too. “It’s not just about whether the proposal is good. It _is_ , but– _You_ need to know these allocations if we’re going to keep ahead of Isabel. She’s found reasons to get me out of the room during the last two meetings. She’s going to do it again and try to steamroll you on something, probably the hydraulic system though I don’t know why she’s so interested in it. Maybe it’s a Stelmoor thing; I’ll look into it. But we can’t let her do that.”

“I know, I know.” Oliver took a sharp breath and shook his head like a dog shaking off water. When he reached for his coffee cup, he found it empty again. He moved to pluck Felicity’s from her hand, but she pulled it back to her chest.

“Ah! No. I will get it,” she told him, raising a firm finger, “ _if_ you will keep reading.”

The way his face softened at the small gesture was worth breaking her own rule this one time.

“Okay.” He dutifully dropped his cup into the palm she extended toward him and pulled the file closer to go over the swaths of jargon once more. “Raisa’s probably taken the carafe into the kitchen by now. Through the dining room and to the left.”

“Okay. You can do this,” she reminded him, bumping his shoulder with a wrist before she moved toward the door.

“Not on my own,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.


End file.
